Everyone Deserves The Chance To Fly
by OnceUponAMadameMayor
Summary: Regina's wings were clipped before she got a chance to fly. Now they've grown back in, and she's determined to fly free of her cage. TW for suicidal thoughts/actions. Set in 3x03


_In honor of the extremely emotional episode Adam and Eddy tortured us with last night. Me and Tinker Bell thought the same thing about Regina and her "fall"._

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time, sadly._**

TW: suicidal thoughts/actions, eating disorders, rape (if you squint)

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Why do you even bother with him? That stupid little imp of a Rumplestiltskin, why do you even bother? You know he only wants to see you fail, you can see it in those freakish too big eyes. He taunts you and teases you and makes you feel like a failure. He makes you feel like your mother made you feel. Why would you even want to endure a repeat performance of your mother, the woman who made the first eighteen years of your life a living hell?

Oh, right, you remember. Because with Rumplestiltskin, you can fight back. He wants you to fight back. He wants to see you fly off the handle and go insane. And to be honest, you wouldn't mind it too much if you did. Go insane, you mean, because maybe if you were insane and didn't care, things wouldn't hurt so much.

He's just ruined your feast, by coming in and making you feel like nothing. This angers you, because you never get a chance to really enjoy your food any other time. When the king is here, he expects his queen to eat like a dainty little wisp of a thing, expects you to eat barely anything. He expects you to be just like Queen Eva. This doesn't suit you, and many times you retire for the evening with your stomach growling like a chimera.

Maybe if you were thin like Queen Eva, he wouldn't bother you so much.

And that stupid, insipid little Snow White, she can eat as much as she wants. She could be the size of a house and the king would still praise her name and commission songs of her greatness. She expects you to be her mother like the king expects you to be Queen Eva. You want no part of this, not one little bit. How could a child of almost marrying age be so vapid, so oblivious to the pains of others around her, to what was right and wrong?

Although you yourself, a woman of age nineteen just yesterday - although nobody remembered - are starting to find the line between right and wrong blurry.

What did that imp mean when he said the darkness had tasted you? This rubs you the wrong way. You are the one sampling the darkness and the power. It does not hold sway over you. You hold sway over yourself. You govern your own life. You weren't meant to live like this, locked up like a bird in a cage. You were meant to be free, to fly. Everyone deserves the chance to fly, you think, but your mother had clipped your wings before you were even given the chance.

This gives you a terrible, horrible, despicable, absolutely perfect idea.

Before you know it, you are in your own personal chambers, because you can finally get a night of painless relaxation with the king gone. You ignore the bed, the blissfully meant-for-one-person bed that was, judging from the pink ruffled quality, a hand me down from Snow White. It plays no part in this idea of yours. The window is just ahead, the balcony waiting for you. You can feel the cool night air drift across your feverish skin, and as your hands grasp onto the railing, you wish you could soar away and never return.

And, of course, that's exactly what you plan to do.

Of course, it has to look like an accident to anyone who might see it from below. You can't have your memory go on as the queen who leapt off the balcony to certain death. You'd much rather be the queen that plummeted off of the balcony because the king's balconies weren't strong enough. At least that would stain his name a little.

You bang on the railing once, pushing into it with as much weight as you have (too much, by the king's standards, and too little, by your father's), and you are secretly overjoyed when you hear it rattle. You push at it again, imagining it to be Snow White, imagining shoving the girl off of the bare ledge and listening to her scream as she fell. This gives you more pleasure than it should. Since when have you become like this?

Since she caused you more pain than you ever should have had to feel.

You surge forward once more, because you know this push should be the one that does it, the one that sends the railing and you flying like owls into the far below courtyard. As your feet move across the cold as ice floor, a thought flies through your mind on heartstopping wings.

No, he wouldn't want you to do this. He would want you to live on. He always wanted what was best for you. If you die, another will take your place and suffer because they show compassion to Snow White. You cannot exact revenge on your enemies if you die now. You cannot ensure that Snow White and King Leopold burn in the fiery hells that they were so obviously created for. You need to live on.

But it is too late to stop moving, and your body moves on its own accord. The balcony gives way and falls, and you fall with it. You hear a scream tear out of your throat - you didn't know you could make such a terrified sound; the king always made you be quiet - and your heart practically bursts out of your chest as the wind rips at your face and hair and clothes. You are beyond scared. You didn't want to die after all, but it's too late for you now. Your death should happen at any second.

But in a little corner of your panicked mind, you feel happy. At least now you'll get to fly.


End file.
